Ashes (Web of Desire #3) - Aleatha Romig Page 0,23

through the doorway and back into the waiting area, again peering at David’s unconscious body. “Are you sure he’s not dead?”

“Yes, I’m sure. He’ll wake with a nice headache.”

Prying my gaze away, I stepped through the open door into Mr. St. Pierre’s work area. “Oh,” I gasped, seeing Mr. St. Pierre in a similar pose, sprawled upon the floor, near his workbench. The ring Marion had ordered was upon the bench in a type of vise. “Not dead?”

Philip shook his head. “Believe me, this is better for him. He can honestly tell Mr. Elliott and any authorities that he doesn’t know what happened to you.”

I clutched my purse closer to my stomach. “What is happening to me?”

The outside door opened inward, flooding the work area with sunlight. Within the glowing threshold were three large bodies, their faces shadowed in the shining sunshine behind them.

“You’re coming with me,” a deep, resonating voice said.

“Oh.” My body trembled as I ran toward the voice. Sobs bubbled within me as I flung my arms around his neck, my breasts colliding with his solid chest. “You’re here,” I managed between gasps for air.

After pulling me toward him, Patrick lifted his hands, framing my cheeks and tilting my face, milliseconds before his lips found mine.

For only a moment, the rest of the world disappeared. I didn’t care that David or Mr. St. Pierre was no longer conscious. I was no longer fearful of Philip or his partner or what they may do. Even the other two men behind Patrick weren’t registering as I melted against my husband and gave myself to his kiss.

His strong hands left my cheeks, lowering over my shoulders, arms, and down to my waist. It was as if he needed the affirmation of my presence. He wasn’t alone as my touch lowered and I wrapped my arms around his toned torso.

As if beginning where our last kiss ended, Patrick’s lips possessively sought what belonged to him. A moan escaped my throat as his hands roamed and fingers moved upward, tugging my hair as his tongue sought entry.

All around us the fires roared, their flames capable of total decimation, and yet, as I’d said before, within the center, I found safety, security, and home.

When we finally pulled away from one another, the men around us were moving.

The scene would appear as if a robbery had occurred, yet nothing was taken, only rearranged.

Patrick reached for my hand and our fingers intertwined.

“Ruby?” I asked, staring into his blue orbs.

“She’s safe.”

“Back in Chicago,” another deep voice said.

My posture straightened as my vision confirmed the other man’s identity.

Did he know what I’d recently learned?

“Mr. Sparrow,” I said, tightening my grasp of Patrick’s hand.

His eyes momentarily closed and opened. “Ms. Miller, we need to talk.”

How could he know?

“About Ruby?” I asked.

“No, your daughter is safe and will remain safe.”

“Sir, if it’s about the Ivanov bratva, I will tell you all I know. I don’t know if it’s helpful, but please know my loyalty is to my daughter.” I looked up at the man beside me. “To my family.” Suddenly that was a more encompassing word. “Patrick, I swear, to my knowledge there’s nothing on me to track me, well nothing other than the necklace you gave me.”

Patrick nodded as his gaze went to Mr. Sparrow.

Mr. Sparrow also nodded. “We need to get to the plane. Once we do, we have a few hours to reintroduce ourselves.”

I looked back up at Patrick. “Am I? Is this real? I’m going with you?”

“Ms. Miller,” Mr. Sparrow said, “your travel is at your discretion. Patrick seemed to believe you wanted to meet with your daughter. If he’s wrong, we made this trip for nothing.”

Patrick lifted my hand, bringing my knuckles to his lips. “Madeline, this is all kinds of fucked up. We have a lot to explain to one another. You’ve lived in a bratva. Coming with me won’t be much different—”

“I believe you’re wrong, Patrick. If you’re there and Ruby is there, wherever there is will be different.”

A smile came to his lips. “There are freedoms that can’t, for the sake of safety, exist.”

I stared into his blue eyes. “Believe me, I want to go with you.” I turned to Mr. Sparrow. “If I may.”

It didn’t take a genius to understand pecking order. My husband was important but not as important as Sterling Sparrow.

Would I ever be able to tell him of the newest revelation?

If I did, could I admit that because of our connection, I am alive and Ruby has